Exit, Pursued by Stormtroopers
by lizzpercush
Summary: Ezra steals a holocron. No, not the Sith one. Misadventures ensue.
1. Chapter 1: The Call

**A/N 4-19-16:** A new adventure begins. In sum Ezra, Sabine, and Chopper go on an adventure. This tale is set between the Protectors of Concord Dawn and Legend of the Lasat in that nebulous time gap between episodes. I would say the trio go off on a life-changing field trip, but, sadly, status quo is god. Someone's life will change by the end of this fic. The nature of grief and an examination of why the Dark Side is bad for you will also be explored. Swing by my Tumblr for the chapter's playlist and other fun goodies at joybirds dot tumblr dot com backslash tagged backslash epbs. Happy reading.

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Chapter 1: The Call

* * *

Meditation wasn't supposed to be this difficult. A thousand thoughts flitted through Ezra's head like swoops joyriding through Garel's sky tailgating and harassing the evening traffic. A giant, unruly mess.

How did that meditation go? The one Kanan kept trying to hammer through his skull between repetitions of _Use the Force,_ and _Stay in the moment. Be present, Ezra._

An itch twitched across his nose darting from one nostril to the other. Eyes crossing, Ezra shifted his weight, easing off his numb knees. He crinkled his nose. Maybe if he flared his nostrils it would ease the itch?

It didn't. Neither did blowing air at his nose. If Ezra could glare at his nose without inducing cross-eyed pain, he'd probably look more ridiculous then he did now sitting seiza and twitching his nostrils like a scenting Lothcat.

 _Focus_

The word slid through his training bond like a ray of sunshine tinged with Kanan's distracted amusement. Ezra basked in the attention, hoarding away the feeling for later. The sense of cared-for not-alone, I-have-your-back all wrapped up in one promise.

Ezra chased down his thoughts, latching onto the odd rote.

…Emotion, yet Peace...

…Ignorance, yet Knowledge…

…Chaos, yet Harmony…

…Death…

Ezra admitted defeat and tipped over. For a moment he let himself be and absorbed the sounds of the Ghost. The engines hummed low and constant. Echoing vibrations rattled through the walls carrying Chopper's complaints through the corridors. The Kanan's presence lingered in the cockpit, somewhat annoyed but threaded through with respect and new found trust. He and Rex were hashing out the particulars of their latest mission, tactics and variables filling the air. Zeb's presence, sturdy and slightly grumpy, completed the triad.

Across the hall Sabine was lost in a swirl of concentration and color. She moved between touching up one of her murals and checking her miracles. All while using the passion of creation to hone her focus and prepare for the crew's mission.

The mission Ezra knew almost nothing about. He had no idea where it was located, what the objective was, or even if they'd be going dirt side, or play marauding space pirates. Because he hadn't been paying attention.

All he really knew about the mission was that Hera wouldn't be there. She was resting, and the rest of Phoenix Squadron was out scouring the Outer Rim for potential bases, for a safe, hidden world for the squadron to roost. And maybe empty out a few Imperial prisons on the side. Which was when Ezra had stopped listening to the briefing. They needed a new hiding spot because the Empire found them and chased them off Garel. As for the prisons…

That had centered the storm in his mind to Lothal and former Governor Azadi. And his parents. All his thoughts had fallen eerily quiet at that point in the meeting. An emptiness Ezra hadn't noticed until Kanan quietly pulled him aside. Tugging on their training bond he had let Ezra lean on him.

He'd been doing that a lot lately. Leaning on Kanan through the Force. It was better than the emptiness he sometimes felt.

Leaving the briefing led to Ezra meditating to clear his head and prepare for the mission ahead. He should get back to that.

Ok, enough chasing your thoughts in circles. Be present. Use the Force. Stay in the moment. An odd thought poked its head above the surface. Maybe he could use the Force to sense something about the mission and learn about it. To focus on the present reality at their destination.

Half of Ezra doubted the Force worked like that. The other side argued back. There is no try. Let's do this.

So, reaching out first to Kanan then beyond, Ezra pictured himself in the streets of Lothal, just one street rat among the noonday foot traffic. The marketers hawked their wares from their stalls. Imperial patrols moved through checking licenses and shaking down aliens.

Ezra moved into the flow of the Universe, threading his way among the crowd. He looked for a mark, for just the right moment to stumble against his target and grab his prize. He stretched out across the stars chasing a budding connection, like chasing after the wind on the Lothal prairies.

A brilliant light bloomed in his mind. It sung an ethereal chorus and twinkled like a star. It called his name in every chord and rest.

If it had been words, they would have gone like this:

 _Hello, young Jedi._ A shimmering giggle danced across his thoughts. _Find me._

A challenge. A beginning. He had to tell Kanan.

"Kanan!"

Ezra burst out of his cabin and slid into the wall with an echoing thump. Pushing off, he dashed down the hall toward the cockpit. "Kanan! Kanan, I—ow!"

Ezra slammed into an immovable and rank wall. Stumbling back, Ezra dodged around Zeb and half tripped into the cockpit. Rex and Kanan looked up from the star maps. Attention and mild concern wafted off them through the Force. Rex had a solid sturdiness like a well-rooted tree. Kanan's warm presence blanketed the edges of Ezra's mind. Concerned and calm. Curious even. Neither managed to get a word out before Ezra opened his mouth and started babbling.

"I know I spaced during the briefing, so you sent me to meditate, and I did. I did meditate, and I focused too. I, I felt something in the Force. Where are we going for our next mission? What is our next mission? I have a feeling and—,"

"Ezra," Kanan broke in. "Slow down."

He glanced to Rex then behind Ezra to Zeb. Following his master's intent, Ezra took a deep breath and let it out.

"Good, now start again. What's going on?" Kanan settled back, leaning against the chair next to him an old mix of calm and expectation tinged with a faint undercurrent of concern.

 _Because the last time I felt something in the Force…_

Ezra shied away from the end of that thought.

"Where's our next mission? What planet?"

A smirk twitched at the ends of Kanan's mouth. He kept his face stern, but discernible warmth lingered in his eyes. "Junction, Feriae Junction. We're interrupting a weapons shipment."

"Rumor has it the Empire has approved designs for a prototype T-8 Disruptor," Zeb rumbled, ears askew and face dark. "They're transferring the plans and a physical model to an unknown manufacturer to finish development. We're stopping them."

"We steal the prototype and corrupt their blueprints."

"With us so far, kid?" Zeb asked. "Ezra?"

Kanan shook his head and carefully cataloged the stunned recognition swamping Ezra's face. "I think we lost him at Junction."

"That's it!" Ezra crowed. "That's the planet!"

An explosion of jabber followed, a zigzagging tangent filled monologue only Kanan seemed to track by virtue of being Ezra's teacher. Zeb was mostly lost, but Rex weathered the flood like a veteran picking up key phrases such as: bright star, kyber crystals and dual wielding a lightsaber and blaster _at the same time._

For Kanan the conversation went something like this:

"That's it! That's the planet!"

"What's the planet?" Kanan asked.

"I _felt_ something calling me when I was meditating. It was like a star. It reached out and _spoke_ to me, Kanan.

"This is just like what happened when we went to the Lothal Temple for my test. What if it's another test? What if it's another kyber crystal?"

"Ezra..."

"The, it wants to be found. It, it wants _me_ to find it."

"Ezra."

"What if it _is_ a new kyber crystal? I could make a new lightsaber. I could fight with two lightsabers, like Ahsoka, or like you! What did the holocron call it? Jar'Kai? Ooh, I could use my lightsaber and blaster at the same time, like you did against the Grand Inquisitor. That would be _so cool_ —"

While an interesting train of thought it was time to reign in his apprentice.

"Ezra, we have a mission," Kanan said. "It would be irresponsible to let you go off on your own, or to sacrifice manpower from our objective. We need to focus on what's required of us."

"It could be bait," Rex said.

"But I felt it in the Force."

"And the promptings of the Force aren't always clear. Our interpretation can be altered by our wishes and perceptions."

"'Sides," Zeb said. "We need to focus on the disruptors first."

"But the Force is guiding me to this!"

Kanan shook his head. "Is it? Or are you seeing what you want to see? For now be present and prepare for the mission. I'll let you know my decision when we land. After we both meditate on the will of the Force and the importance of staying in the moment, _this_ moment."

For a moment Ezra puffed up. A torrent of a words and further arguments surged, but he caught himself and deflated. He nodded. "You're right. I'll just…yeah."

Kanan noted the slow trudge, hunched shoulders and the disappointment hanging in the air. He pinched his nose. "Well, that went well."

"You made the right call," Zeb offered. "The kid needs to stay close. Junction's crawling with Hutts. It's too dangerous for a heartsick orphan with his head in the clouds."

Rex pushed off from the side panel and dusted off his trousers. "Ezra could be onto something. In my experience you only need to throw one stone to start a rock slide."

"What happened to it being bait?" Kanan asked.

"We shouldn't discount that possibility. However, the smallest things can turn the tide in battle." He shook his head. "Finding the disruptors is important. But we may gain something by listening to him. Does he know he'll be watching the Ghost?"

Kanan sighed. "No, not yet."

…

 _Stay in the moment, Ezra. Be present, Ezra. Focus, Ezra._

A small utterly minuscule part of Ezra fumed.

The star bobbed in the back of his mind like an offshore buoy rising and falling with the ocean's waves.

Ezra shook his head. Somehow he didn't think Kanan meant for him to moon over the Force's prodding. But Kanan also said he should let the Force guide him. Well, what if the Force was guiding him toward something in the near future?

So wrapped up in scowling at the floor and wrestling with his thoughts, Ezra didn't notice a cabin door sliding open or the shift in a certain colorful Force signature.

"They told you the news, huh?"

Ezra jerked to a halt. His head snapped to the right, and his hand flew to the back of his head. His thoughts stuttered then crumbled to space dust. Still habit, and perhaps the Force, was with him.

"Sabine."

His favorite Mandalorian and only Mandalorian friend. Well, Ketsu didn't count. Ezra had barely held a full conversation with her. So, his only friendly Mandalorian crewmember, and she was looking at him. Like he was supposed to be saying something.

He cringed and nodded. "Yep, news. I heard."

Sabine leaned against her cabin door. Sympathy lurked in her eyes and tinged her thoughts. Swallowing down the odd lump in his throat and the urge for his Basic to trip off his tongue in an incoherent puddle, Ezra grasped for the first neutral thought in his head.

"Good to see you without singed eyebrows." He sniffed her room's air flow. A familiar combination of paint and chemicals tickled his nose hairs. "And a smoke-free room. It's a wonder you don't suffocate on all the fumes."

Sabine smiled, unimpressed, and quirked an eyebrow. "I haven't blown anything up accidentally in weeks."

"Twenty-eight days," Ezra said and then shrugged. "But who's counting?"

He and Zeb were. Tucked carefully away behind one Zeb's pinups was a drab grey sign marking It Has Been 28 days Since the Last Explosion. If Sabine combusted anything in the Ghost in the next five days outside of a mission, intentionally or not, Zeb took over Ezra's chores for a standard week. If anything exploded in the next eight days, Chopper got an oil bath, and Ezra would take over the astromech's night watch for two standard days. Unexpected exothermic reactions counted.

His thoughts skittered back to the present. "What news?"

"Well, it's not bad news," Sabine said. "But you're staying with the Ghost during the Junction run."

"Oh."

Be present.

"And Chop's helping me slice the Imp's data stores."

Presently Ezra felt his hopes for another kyber crystal sink.

"Am I stuck scrubbing off carbon scouring or has the rest of my sentence not been decided?"

Chores. Ship watching. Sabine got to slice into Imperial data and blow things up with Chopper. Kanan, Rex, and Zeb got to steal weapons and disturb the Imperial peace. And Ezra? Ezra had chores. Again.

The rush of disappointment did what Kanan's chiding hadn't. The connection tethering Ezra to his star dwindled to nothing leaving Ezra aware of his reassignment.

Sabine pinned him with a look. "You've been distracted lately."

Ezra snorted and slumped against the wall. "Can you be more specific? I'm always distracted. Can't keep my focus on anything."

The sarcastic bite sharpened his words. He had been distracted lately but staying cooped up inside the Ghost wrapped in shimmersilk wasn't going to help.

"That's not fair," Sabine said. "We care about you, Ezra. You're our friend and a member of this crew. If sitting out a few missions helps you sort out you head, then you do it. You're hurting, and we don't want to push you before you're ready."

"I know! I know. I'm not fragile. I won't break. I can still do things," he said. "I want to actually do things."

"We know. And you can do more, if you aren't—"

"Distracted," he bit out, "because I miss—I know." He sighed. The bitterness rushed out replaced with a sad acceptance. "I get it. I don't mind keeping up with the duties roster. But I can do more than watch the Ghost. I can handle missions. I just want in on this one."

"Why? You were totally spaced during the briefing."

Well, yes, he had been, but things were different now.

"After I left I felt something in the Force. It's like the time Kanan had me use the Force to find the Lothal Temple. Back then I felt my kyber crystal call to me from inside the Temple."

Sabine pushed off the wall and stepped closer. "You felt another kyber crystal?"

"Yes. No. Maybe." Ezra mirrored her. "Whatever it is, it's on Junction, and it shines in the Force like my crystal did. I need, no. I _really_ want to find it. It's…"

"Calling to you. Huh." Sabine furrowed her brow and looked down. "What did Kanan say?"

"That it could be a trap, and that I should meditate on it. And I'm apparently watching the Ghost. So, no."

Sabine nodded. Her eyes darted back and forth. "Bait huh? He's right. After Garel this could be too good to be true. The Inquisitors have used the Force to trick us before, and they're good at finding us. I may be more familiar with the Empire's military tactics, but if it's too good to be true…"

Like randomly hearing a call through the Force. Look at the shiny bait, Ezra. Nibble at the shiny bait, then snap!

"Then it probably is. Yeah. I know."

But wallowing in his self-pity wasn't productive. "Kanan said he would meditate on it. See if he could feel what I felt."

"But we're almost at Junction and need to prepare for the mission," Sabine finished. "He will, you know. Kanan takes your training seriously."

He did. Ezra and Kanan had come a long way from slicing cartons on top of the Ghost's hull midflight. Through Stygeon Prime, the Grand Inquisitor, Kanan's capture and rescue. Finding the younglings and…looking for Ezra's parents. Kanan would do what was best for Ezra. Even if that meant Ezra had to sit in the Ghost and work through his grief.

Well, it beat fretting over Hera's recovery in Medbay. Staying by Hera's side and watching her low energy weigh down her usual focus as she dozed in and out of sleep…icy claws seized Ezra's guts and tightened each time he sat and waited certain she couldn't disappear as long as he kept her in sight. Usually Kanan interrupted Ezra's vigils when he rotated in for the Keep Hera Company shift. Or just guided him out when Sabine rotated in. Zeb would stalk in, rest a companionable hand on Ezra's shoulder, then scoop him up and dump him across his shoulder. Hera's low chortles were the only redeeming factor when Zeb hauled him out of the room like a sack of tubers grumbling about Lothrats needing daily doses of fresh air and sunshine to grow. Never mind that the fleet hadn't seen dirt in weeks.

"I could always review the star maps. Maybe there's a system or planet near Junction or Mandalore we use for a base," he said.

Sabine nodded. A pleased smile flitted across her face. "Then you're doing your job and proving you're looking at the bigger picture. Hera will love it." She slid on her helmet. "Well, Chop and I need to go over our part of the plan."

"And you need to stock up on paint, charges, and miracles." Ezra said. "Don't blow anything up."

"What, at all?"

"No, prematurely."

She scoffed and started down the hall.

"Sabine, thanks."

Ezra spared her one last glance then headed into his cabin. After a quick check that the bunk's bolts were all present he scampered up the ladder and plopped onto his back.

The main push of lingering sadness had eased chased away by the Force's call and Sabine's concern. Closing his eyes Ezra called up that deep well of grief. The twists and knots it made in his gut, and the pricks of tears it brought to his eyes.

He'd come to understand that grief was like a tide. It ebbed and flowed swamping him in numb misery and vanishing as suddenly as it appeared. Several hours or even a few day cycles of 'normal' behavior would persist, and then the sadness returned with the aching reminder that his parents were gone. He wouldn't see them again, hear their voices, make new memories, or ask for guidance. No introducing them to Kanan or Hera or asking his Dad how exactly he started wooing Mom, or even…or even holding them again. Or being held by them. Or showing them how he had listened to them and was putting their teachings to good use.

Just…gone.

But he had the Force, and sometimes he could hear them. Sometimes he felt two warm presences embracing him. Encouraging him.

A sigh shuddered out of Ezra's chest, and the ceiling swam above him. He scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve and left his arm draped over his eyes blocking out the galaxy.

Knowing his parents were gone was like picking up a weighted pack and strapping it onto his back. He carried it with him, the loss and the ache. His awareness of it changed, but it remained.

He needed to focus and show that, yes, he was hurting, a bit distracted, and ready and willing to bite heads off at the oddest times, but he could help and look beyond his own pain. He could still make a difference. So Ezra took his grief and slotted it into place on his back. Not heavy enough to keep him from doing what needed to be done but still there.

Present yet apart. Near yet far.

"Okay Bridger, focus."

He reached through his thoughts searching for the rote Kanan had sat down and taught him after they returned from the Lothal Temple. A meditation, an older version of the Jedi code.

 _Use this to understand the nature of the Force and our role within it as Jedi. Use it to focus._

Emotion, yet Peace.

Passion, yet Serenity.

Death, yet the Force.

As a sign of his commitment Ezra fell asleep.

…

In his cabin Kanan sunk to his knees and quieted his mind. He slowed his breathing, measuring out each inhale and exhale, and centered his mind.

Kanan had kept Ezra under his wing. He had promised Ezra he wouldn't face his parents' fate alone, and he hadn't. After leaving Lothal, Ezra had gravitated to Kanan like an asteroid pulled into a planet's orbit. Ezra had been content to stay close and had taken to checking up on everyone. Sometimes that meant he would seek out and confirm their continued existence in person or reach out with the Force.

Then Hera got shot down during her mission to Concord Dawn with Phoenix Squadron. The whole crew had been shaken. Ezra had switched from check-ins to latching onto Kanan or Hera's bedside like a mynock. Hera's injuries seemed to drive Ezra deeper into his grief and remind him that he still had people to lose.

But now Ezra was looking past his fears. Shouldn't Kanan, as his master, encourage him?

Kanan reached out to the Force and let it flow through him.

…

Three rattling bangs and Zeb's loud bellow, "Hey, sleepyhead, get up!" jolted Ezra out of sleep and sent him crashing to the floor.

"I'm up. I'm up!"

Chopper's delighted chortles echoed from beyond the door. Ezra scowled and kept an eye on the entrance. "No, I don't need help."

The looming threat of electrocution wiped away the last wisps of lethargy clouding his mind. Helmet, helmet, he knew it was somewhere in the cabin. Unless Chopper stole it or Sabine decided to touch up the paint. Or Kanan had it. Why did his helmet disappear when he needed it?

"Hurry up, Ezra. Kanan's looking for you."

Ezra reached out and brushed Kanan's Force signature. Not mad or worried or hurt, so good.

"I'll be right there," he said and smacked his shin against Zeb's bunk. "Oh, Karabast," he grit out. "Any explosions?"

"Not yet," Zeb said, voiced muffled coming through the door. "More's the pity."

"Hey, I haven't blowing anything up in weeks."

"Nothing?" Zeb asked skepticism dripping from his words.

"Not accidentally. Hey, Ezra? Kanan's looking for you. Why? Are you guys placing bets?"

Pain forgotten Ezra jerked upright and hurried over to the door. Oh, not good.

"Well, you did almost blow a hole in the hull and nearly killed us all from smoke inhalation," Zeb said. "Kanan was ticked. Hera was livid."

"That was _one_ time—,"

Oh shavit, two messengers and Sabine would never forgive them if she did find out about the, ah, poster. Time for a distraction. Spying his helmet, Ezra shoved it under his arm and burst into the hall.

"Whoa, whoa, hey. Now is not the time to fight," he said.

Zeb and Sabine swiveled their heads and looked at him. At their side Chopper remained stoic.

"We have a mission to get ready for," Ezra said sidling between Sabine and Zeb. He casually rested a hand on each shoulder. "And we each have to do our part. This infighting? It's pointless. It only brings us, as a crew, a team, down."

Now for the kicker.

"Besides, Zeb, you smell. Chopper, you're ugly, and Sabine, your hair's on fire."

Ezra enjoyed the dropped jaws, and Sabine's hand tentatively patting her hair. Slippery as a frightened pufferpig he ducked away and dashed down the hall.

"Later!"

 _And once again, the day is saved by the heroic Jedi, Ezra Bridger._

Zeb's guttural snarl drowned out Chopper's angry wheezing, and Sabine's _not funny Ezra._ Icing on the jogan fruitcake, really.

Ezra entered the cockpit. Kanan sat at the pilot station bringing the Ghost into port and going through landing procedures with the Junction Space Controllers. Kanan glanced over at Ezra and nodded. Ezra slipped into the copilot's chair and followed his master's lead. He waited for Kanan to close the channel then pounced.

"So, I was thinking. While you guys are out running the mission, I can check out the Feriae system and the Thesme Sector star charts. Maybe help find a spot for a base."

"I've been thinking too," Kanan said. The Ghost touched down with only the gentlest tremor when the landing struts touched dirt. "You're in."

"Wait, what?" Ezra swiveled and faced Kanan. "I thought I was staying with the ship?"

"You will. But we need someone to range between the hangar and the closest routes to the market and spaceport. Someone to keep an eye out for any Imperial or local trouble. Rex will stay with the Ghost. After Zeb and I start our part you'll pull back to the Ghost. And if you happen to pinpoint where the Force is calling you, then you can check it out."

"Really?"

"Really. Stay on task and don't go too far from the Ghost. Observe, don't engage. Got it?"

Ezra nodded, like an overexcited dork. A grin split his face. Was it possible to explode from excitement? Ezra leapt to his feet and crushed Kanan in a rib creaking hug.

"You won't regret it. I'll stay extra focused and out of trouble. I won't go too far." Far was a relative term for someone who used Lothal's roofs as his personal footpaths. "Thank you."

A fond smile graced Kanan's face and warmed his eyes. Reaching out, Kanan buried a hand in Ezra's mop and ruffled. "Of course, you're checking in every quarter hour until I signal comm silence. If anything comes up signal me, then Chopper."

Ezra beamed. In the part of his mind that connected to the Force a light danced within his excitement sparkling like starlight on the ocean's waves. It beckoned.

 _Soon._


	2. Chapter 2: Junction City

**A/N 4-27-2016:** In this installment we see Ezra climbs things, and Sabine's in the field. They say that the reason why the Hunger Games was so gripping was because the author ended each chapter with a cliffhanger. Also, it took nearly a month to pin down which Outer Rim planets would appear in EPBS. Mainly since, where exactly in the Outer Rim is Lothal?

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Chapter 2: Junction City

Junction City was a lot like Lothal in some ways. Both had seen better days, had a strong Imperial presence on planet, and attracted more than their share of colorful characters. Many sentients preferred walking the streets and more ranged travel on planet needed speeders. Most of the buildings were one to five stories high, and the structures were made of local sediment mixed into sturdy clay bricks and spread across the outer walls. While Lothal focused on agriculture, mining, and hosted Sienar Systems Laboratory, Junction was primarily a trade world nestled by the nexus of the Hydian Way, the Thesme Trace, and the Gordian Reach. Ships and freighters cruised through the atmosphere and most headed to the center and heart of Junction City, the Grand Terminal.

The Ghost's docking hangar was a small and removed from the busiest parts of Junction City. A somewhat shadowy business that rented out bays to ship captains by the hour with no questions asked.

Eyes skating across the crowd, Ezra mapped the main paths and busier side streets. He minded the twinge of warning at some alley openings. Lothal City had areas like this where beings knew to keep a blind eye to the rougher elements or risk a vibroblade in the back. Or blasted brains.

He'd already found the safest and busiest routes from their hangar to other parts of the city. He'd also found unsafe and busy routes, the most likely to be mugged in streets, most likely to find spice dealers alleys, and enter and end up dead for your trouble areas. Pleasant neighborhood, really.

He'd also managed to spy a few rooftop routes. Not that he'd gone climbing, yet. Kanan wanted him to keep an eye out for trouble and get to Ghost at the drop of a cred. But Ezra also needed to find the fastest and safest ways back to the Ghost for all the Specters. After Kanan's distraction Sabine and Chopper would split off and come back separately from the main group. He wanted to have two routes back for every group.

Following the crowd's flow Ezra passed an establishment that wore its grime and disrepair with a spiteful forthrightness. The sharp scent of alcohol wafted out accompanied by thunderous howls and the crash of breaking glass and furniture. _Bar fights_. He tucked it away. _Lots of bar fights._ How distracting.

Ducking into a promising side street Ezra scaled the closest drain and crawled onto the roof. He _really_ didn't want to get acquainted with a strange city's sewer. Unlike Lothal, Junction City's might actually function. That left his other preferred method of travel, the rooftops. People didn't spend nearly enough time looking up.

He scanned the roofs. Spotting a slender spire jutting out of a rectangular block pretending to be a building, Ezra clambered upwards. His fingers dug into the cracks in the pockmarked surface. Time and slapped together craftsmanship had left the building's outer plaster uneven. Entire feet of the mud plaster had weathered away revealing the underlying brick. A secure structure but one with some bricks sunk too deep and others sprouting up like weeds, perfect handholds.

Ezra scaled the tower and swung into the abandoned belfry. Four large openings only marginally covered in corroding wire mesh gave way to a bird's eye view of the city, and, the perfect view of the market and the Grand Terminal. From up here it was easy to spot a riot of color and a familiar dyed head vanishing inside the spaceport.

…

Sabine had brought eight bombs for this mission, three smoke bombs and five explosives. Ten seemed excessive for a mission that focused on data corruption and controlled prototype disruption, so she had pared down to eight. Sabine's part was simple: use Kanan's distraction to slip explosives on the prototype crates. Chopper would steal the datapad carrying the backup blueprints and run. Sabine would chase after him, plant a sleeper virus in the pad, and plug into the nearest holonet terminal and upload a nasty mess into the holonet. Risky but workable.

Chopper idled by her knee basking in his cover.

"Yes, S-3, I know. Use my elbow servos."

Chopper chirped, _chirped_ , and leaned into the buffing, Sabine's cover for staying in the Terminal so long. Sabine was just one traveler waiting for her departing shuttle and taking the extra time to buff grime off her droid. She'd found a bench close to their target's docking bay, whipped out a spare rag, and started scrubbing soot off of Chopper. The buffing included coos, compliments, and promises of an oil bath. Chopper ate it up, solemnly offering each arm for cleaning.

Kanan stepped off the Grand Stair. Moving with the foot traffic's flow he glanced between a datapad in his palm and the signs marking the halls and bays. In the center of the corridor he stopped and scratched his chin. He peered at his pad practically touching the screen with his nose.

Curses, shouts, and some jostling began to fill the air. Astromechs beeped in alarm, then annoyance, and swerved around him, but the busier swarms and individuals jerked to the sides. The shifting tide of people only partly split around him. Kanan looked up from his pad long enough to start shouting back.

"—vaping stoopa!"

Kanan was really good at playing a rude, roughneck spacer. Sabine kept the unfolding holodrama in the corner of her eye.

Satisfied that he had defended his honor and cursed one of his heckler's family back three generations, Kanan shoved the pad under his arm and stalked down the corridor. Well, Kanan wasn't the only person in the spaceport stalking down the corridor unwilling to move for anybody.

Sabine gave Chopper one last swipe and tapped his side. "Ok, S-3. Get ready. You're on soon."

Rising to her feet, she tucked the cleaning rag into a pouch and slipped into the foot traffic. She moved with the flow of the crowds and slowly worked her way toward Kanan. For now she caught glimpses of his nerf tail. Zeb stalked toward them looking as grumpy as the day she'd serenaded him with Shyriiwook.

Chopper trundled along hanging at her side carefully marking the closing distance between Zeb and Kanan. Sabine's wrist comm flashed. Chopper peeled away from her side, shoving his way through the crowd with angry beeps, bwahps, and flailing arms. Sabine turned on her holoimager and began recording. Their fearless captain would appreciate the look on Kanan's face.

The collision was beautiful. Pushing through the crowd, Chopper rammed into Kanan's shins. The pad flew from Kanan's hand and arched through the air. With a shrill yelp Kanan lurched forward and smacked into opposing traffic, Zeb specifically. The two cracked their skulls together. The sound rippled through the crowd. One forehead smashed into the other in an inadvertent head butt. The two sprang apart, Kanan holding his head, and Zeb cradling his nose. Both scowled.

"Watch where you're going!"

"No, _you_ watch where _you're_ going, sculag."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

The yelling shifted to shoving, and the jeer crowd quickly cleared a space around the fight. Zeb snarled and stooped to catch Kanan and throw him. Kanan dodged, mostly.

Sabine took her cue and ran after Chopper. She let out the occasional _excuse me's_ , and _sorry's_ , but only committed to a worried, "S-3? Get back here!"

After ramming into Kanan, Chopper had squawked in terror and peeled off as if the entire situation had thrown off his logic circuits. He zigged and zagged and sped into the one clear bay that no one had dared duck into, the bay with a guard detail of Stormtroopers and an imperial official. Chopper screeched to a stop and started buzzing. The group, Stormtroopers included, turned and stared.

Sabine pushed through the crowds. "S-3? S-3!"

She jogged to Chopper's side and hunched over resting her hands on her knees.

One of the troopers stepped forward. "This bay is restricted—,"

"Oh, thank the Stars," Sabine said and opened her eyes extra wide. "You have to do something. They're going to kill each other!"

The official, a nervous, weedy sort that looked like he needed to spend more time outdoors, glanced between Sabine and the growing commotion in the main corridor.

"I-I don't think it's necessary."

A guttural snarl ripped over the din followed by a loud shout. _"I'm going to kill you, you clumsy lowlife!"_

Ah, Zeb.

The official flinched back and waved at the closest trooper. "Well, go see to it. Quickly!"

Two Stormtroopers turned toward the fight. The official turned back to Sabine then stumbled several steps back. Chopper pulled at the hem of his jacket and grabbed the pad tucked under one arm.

"What is it—hey! Stop, that's mine!"

Sabine gasped, hands flying to her face and staggered back. She collided with the stack of crates and braced herself.

"Oh no, oh no. I'm so sorry. I told Buir we should have him melted down or incinerated ages ago. I'll get it back. Promise." She darted forward. "S-3, _get back here_. Oh, sorry!"

The official stared after her, still sputtering about the turn of events. A droid, a _droid_ , had stolen his pad. Of all the unthinkable, Star's End, that pad had classified blueprints on it. He paled, and his heart stuttered.

"Troops, after that—,"

"Uh, sir?" The official turned and saw four blinking lights scattered across the crates. One of the troopers grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him toward the exit. "Everyone evacuate! Inform Command that rebel activity has been uncovered."

Three halls away Sabine darted down a side corridor and fished out a detonator. Between Zeb and Kanan's fight and the trooper's crowd control, the area around the hangar bay had been cleared of civilian traffic. Glancing about she spotted a fire alarm and smacked it. That should clear out the stragglers. Helmet on, she slid her thumb across the red depressor and pushed.

A sharp whistle pierced the air followed by a deep rumble bellowing down the halls. She could see it now, the bright flash and the purple smoke cloud ballooning out shooting gold shimmers into the air. With one carefully measured recipe for each explosive, the blast and shock wave would be contained within the hangar bay and vented into the air. If only she could see it in person, then she could check how the smoke cloud billowed upwards.

She shook herself. This wasn't the time to pine over her art. It was time to find Chop and start slicing. She had a datachip to corrupt.

…

Double click on the comm and the distant roar of an explosion. Time to get back to the Ghost. Ezra plucked at each Specter's force presence and the nascent bonds linking them to him. Kanan's was the strongest and easiest to read. The other bonds' strength and thickness varied, but all were well, healthy, and whole. Somehow, Ezra had even managed to form a tenuous connection with Chopper the Cantankerous, not that he could read much off of it. Ezra leaned back from the ledge and sighed. All present and accounted for, so, of course, he should get back to the Ghost.

But since he was here and had this great vantage point there was something else he should check on. That shimmering star, the quiet presence glimmering in the back of his mind. Eyes sliding close, Ezra tightened his grip on the ledge, lifted a hand, and _reached_ back.

 _I'm here. Where are you?_

The star shone true as if bursting clear of cloud cover on a dark Lothal night. ' _Here, here, here,'_ it seemed to croon. ' _Find me.'_

Anchored in a spot deep in his gut a thread shot out from Ezra and sailed to his star.

' _Young Jedi, listen.'_

The light faded, but the thread remained. It stretched beyond Ezra off to the north ending at…

The Grand Terminal

Ezra rocked back on his heels and released a shuddering breath. Going by the odd lightness in his head and rush in his ears, he wouldn't care if Chopper rumbled by and knocked him flat with a swipe of his arm.

Listen. Listen for what? The rumble of engines as ships roared overhead entering and leaving atmosphere? The whine of repulsors and speeders shooting through the streets, or the sounds of a bustling market place? The shoppers' noise blended into steady hum of merchants hawking wares, murmuring and passing by? Or the echoing tumult from the newest cantina brawl?

 _What am I listening for? Can't I have a hint?_

But the connection vanished into a fog. _Well, that's just perfect._ Ezra slumped over the railing and scanned the market.

Listen. Find me. Challenges. Why did Jedi training have to be so cryptic?

Movement flickered from one of the market corners. Belly scraping against the brick, Ezra hunched down making himself smaller. Something seemed…off.

One corner of the market wasn't moving. At all. A pocket of stillness lacking merchants at their stalls and customers browsing the wares on display. No one walked there. Not a creature stirred. Nothing.

A shiver shot down his spine. He couldn't hear anything from that corner. It felt…empty.

 _Something's not right._ _I feel…_

Goosebumps beaded on his arms, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Ezra clicked on his comm.

"Specter 1, this is Specter 6. Something's wrong. I have this feeling—,"

The comm hissed and spat. Interference clogged up the connection. Jammed.

 _They know we're here._

A quick scan of the streets showed that all Imperial patrols were missing. The feeling curdling in his gut dropped like a stone. Ezra stopped moving. He slowed his breathing and wrapped himself in the Force.

 _Nothing important to see here. Nothing to look at. Just bricks,_ a lot _of bricks._ Inwardly, he tried to wrestle down a spike of panic. _Focus, Bridger. You can't help if you're panicking. Feel the Force, center yourself. Listen to what it has to say._

Kanan really was a great teacher. But Ezra had to pick the one landmark with the great view of the city. The tower with a great view but not so great visual cover for young rebels that needed to be out of sight, now, not waving their ragged orange butt around like a flag for everyone in the far corners of the city to see.

 _Ezra, you idiot._

He tilted his chin just enough to look inside the belfry. No trapdoor but if he could slip out and scramble down toward that quiet, shadowy place in the market, maybe he could slip out with minimal exposure. Peeking out Ezra slipped a leg over the ledge and peered at his planned descent. Yeah, he could do it. He could drop if he needed to without hurting himself, or jump to that that roof just a bit over. Well, he said a bit…

A chill shot down his spine. Ezra snuggled into the building's shadow. Checking his handholds, Ezra stopped and centered himself. The feeling from earlier, it hadn't faded. If anything, it felt stronger like a fyrnock lurking in the shadows waiting to pounce. And it felt personal.

 _So what am I missing?_

A flutter of silver teased his eye.

Clinging to the tower like a burr on a Lothcat, Ezra traced the movement.

Hair, it was hair falling past the hood of a dark cloak. Silver strands fluttered out from beneath the hood and shifted with the gust of the wind and the turn of a head. She watched him like a shriek-hawk. Fire burned in glinting eyes. She lifted her chin, caught his eye, and smiled.

A shadow behind her shifted. The second reflected the first. She shared the same silver hair pinned beneath a black hood. Ice gleamed in her eyes. The third remained behind the twins deep within the market's shadows. Three hunters swathed in shadows and prey insight.

It was the Spire all over again.

Ezra let go. With a bend in his knees, he landed and leaped away, headed for the terminal.

He had to warn the others. If he got caught alone, or if they cornered the rest of the crew, or found Kanan… He had to get there first.

Reaching through the Force, Ezra shoved his impressions, the fire and the ice and the dreaded certainty.

 _Kanan! Inquisitors!_


End file.
